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<title>Sating My Curiosity by leonheart2012</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772865">Sating My Curiosity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012'>leonheart2012</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Because they have feelings too, Cuddling, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Previous Abusive Relationship Mentioned, Previous Prostitution Mentioned, Previous drug use mentioned, Romance, Safe Spaces, Spoilers, Tough Men Being Vulnerable, i dunno, probably, short and sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:41:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dadsona (Dylan) has a burning question, one that leads to a very special moment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robert Small/Dadsona</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sating My Curiosity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey Robert?” Even as I speak, I beg myself not to ask the question that’s been burning on my tongue ever since Amanda moved away. Or maybe even before then.</p><p>“Yeah?” He’s sitting on the couch, reading a book, slice of Hawaiian pizza in his other hand. “What’s up?”</p><p><em>Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t-</em> “If I...had said yes to sleeping with you that first night after the bar, what would you have thought of me?” <em>Ah, damn it. Well, I guess it’s out there now…</em></p><p>He doesn’t say anything for a long while, finishing his pizza slice before closing his book and padding into the kitchen, where he pours himself a shot and downs it. I know better than to ask again; I know he’s heard me. The only thing I can do is wait and hope he talks to me. It’s different from what I’m used to; Alex was always so open and honest with me.</p><p>He pours himself another shot, but sips on this one. Finally, gruffly, grudgingly, the words grit out of his throat. “I wouldn’t have liked it very much.”</p><p>I fidget in my chair. Now that my initial curiosity has been sated, I want to ask more. He sighs and turns to me from where he stands at the window.</p><p>“Go on. Ask. I know you want to.”</p><p>Now I have permission, the question jumps from my tongue and into the open air, where I’m sure it’ll do neither of us any good. “If you wouldn’t have liked it, why offer it in the first place?”</p><p>He sighs and tips back the rest of his drink, closing the blinds. It’s only four in the afternoon, the sun barely setting, but he drags me into his bedroom, where he closes the blinds, the door, the windows...when we’re finally shuttered in, he gets under the blanket and gestures for me to follow.</p><p>I do so, coming face-to-face with him under the covers. I half expect him to light a match, but he doesn’t. There’s barely any light, so I can only see the glint of his eyes and the line of his cheek. His hand finds my face and he strokes over my cheek. “Dylan, I need you to know I’m being completely serious right now.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft.</p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p>“I mean it. And after I’ve told you this...no more questions, yeah? Don’t bring it up again, and definitely don’t tell anyone.”</p><p>“Okay.” I swallow, thinking it’s got to be something bad.</p><p>“Promise me?” The strain in his voice is completely uncharted territory, and it finally gets through to me that he’s being completely serious. No jokes or shocking stories just for the hell of it. He needs me to know that this is real.</p><p>“I promise.” I answer, gripping his hand in mine.</p><p>He takes a deep, shaky breath, and then another, until he finally says something. “When I was younger, dumber, I was...in a relationship with this guy. It was...not good.” He huffs a laugh. “Understatement of the year. He was into drugs. <em>I</em> was into drugs. Mine weren’t as hardcore as his: bit of acid, some weed, mostly just tobacco and alcohol. We were constantly out of cash. In the beginning, he just had me ask my dad for money, until he cut me off. Then, he convinced me to whore myself out so he could get his fix. I was fucking...being fucked...by people at least five times a week, usually more. I...lost count.”</p><p>His breath ghosts across my face as he shuffles closer. “So when I ask now, it’s a test. To see if they’re like those assholes who used me.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” I say, reaching out to stroke over his cheek. “That must have been really hard for you.” My hand slips down to his shoulder, and I give it a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me, Robert.” A few moments pass. “Are you okay?”</p><p>He hums and shuffles even closer. “It’s taking all my effort not to say ‘just kidding’, and play it off as a lie, but...while most of those stories I tell are lies, Dylan, some of them aren’t. And sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference anymore. I think I’ve convinced myself that I really <em>have</em> fought with wolves in the Himalayas.”</p><p>My hand finds its way to his side, the warmth of his skin leaving me tingling. “I believe you. I believe that you know what’s real.” My hand slips to his chest. “In your heart, you know what’s real.” I can see him fighting off a scoff, but am grateful that he is.</p><p>Slowly, he reaches his mouth up to meet mine in a tender kiss. “I love you.” He says, so softly I’m positive I’ve heard him wrong, until he kisses me again in the same soft, gentle way. Then again, and again.</p><p>“Wait...” I say, and he pulls back as if he’s been burned. “I love you too.”</p><p>I see the glint of his teeth as he smiles and pulls me into another kiss. And then he’s breaking away, dragging himself out of bed and opening the curtains again. His expression is back to being stony, his demeanour more gruff and abrupt than usual, but I understand that it’s his defence mechanisms kicking in.</p><p>I leave not long after that, glowing at the knowledge that he’s in a place where he trusts me enough to tell me these things.</p><p> </p><p>That feeling lasts all of one day, before he sends me a DadBook message saying to forget the whole thing, that he was lying, that it was just a joke. I know that’s not true, that he’s trying to make himself feel better, but I thought...maybe he’s not doing as well as he’d let me believe.</p><p>A few hours later, he sends me another message on his phone, apologising for the first, asking me over for dinner again tonight. I just know the second message was sent from his cave; it must be where he feels safe to be vulnerable. Of course I agree, and before too long, I’m over at his place again.</p><p>As soon as I get inside, he drags me to his bedroom and gets under the covers, hiding us from the outside world, where he immediately snuggles into me. “I’m not doin’ so good.” He says simply, and I hold him for the rest of the night. This isn’t exactly what I’d thought it would be, and we’re still a long way off being in a ‘normal’ relationship, where we go on dates and things, but it’s a step in the right direction.</p><p><em>Progress</em>, I think, and sigh softly, planting a kiss to Robert’s crown. <em>Progress</em>.</p>
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